Yeah, I don’t know why I haven’t watched Cheaters lately. Oh wait, yes I do. Because it’s on at 1 AM Sunday morning! I guess I could PVR it and then I could skip all the commercials. But even the commercials are good. There’s always a commercial for their website cheaters.com If you’ve never been you should check it out. It’s full of good stuff. Right from the homepage you get an awesome cropped photo of Joey Greco in a bad ass leather jacket trying to look tuff and sensitive all at once. Down the side there’s a link to the Cheaters Store where you can buy amazing merchandise like…

A Cheaters thong.

A Cheaters Zippo lighter.

Or a Cheater’s t-shirt

Check out the slogan on the back …encouraging the renewal of temperance & virtue…

I think it’s hilarious that they’re actually trying to make people think that Cheaters is helping couples and not exploiting them. Do you think Joey Greco and the Cheaters producers all sit around going, Maybe one day with the help of our TV show, website and these t-shirts we’ll reach enough people to end cheating forever and then our work on this earth will be done.?

Not only is Cheaters helping couples. It’s also helping all those lonely singles out there too with their own dating service nocheatersdate.com. There you’re guaranteed to find someone that won’t cheat on you. They even make you check a box that says, I am single and NOT in a relationship. The NOT is even in capitals just to be sure. Don’t take my word for it though. Take the word of an actual nocheatersdate.com member.

WWJGD: This Saturday will mark the one month anniversary of my online relationship with DNTCH-E-TONME69 through nocheatersdate.com. To celebrate I’m going to send her these Cheaters hip hugger panties.

The other commercial they play all the time during Cheaters is for Extenze.

Yep, boner pills. But not just boner pills. Extenze comes in a drink format too.

It’s like an energy drink for your wang!

Can you imagine sitting on the bus and looking over and seeing some shrimp dinked weirdo actually drinking a can of this stuff? You try to look away but you can’t. Then he sees you looking at him and whispers I can feel it growing. Then for the rest of the bus ride you worry that the bus is going to hit a pothole and that can is going to fly out of his hand and land on you. Then you wake up the next day with dicks growing all over you.

File photo: You the next day.

Extenze has a pretty intense website too. They don’t just sell boner potions. They sell all kinds of weird stuff.

Like seaman flavoring pills.

And premature ejaculation spray called Rock Hard Spray

It looks like Axe body spray. They should make a deal with Axe to combine their products. I’m pretty sure they share the same clientele.

I’ve even got a great marketing idea for them. A new super hero storyline. Picture this:

Mild mannered Bruce Boner was working late at the Axetenze factory when he slipped and fell into a vat of premature ejaculation spray. From that day forward he was known as Rock Hard!

Now he travels the world fighting crime with his rock hard erection and copious load. Oh and also he smells like cheap shitty cologne. (That part’s for you Axe people.)

So what do you think? I think I’m going to be a millionaire. And if the Axe/Extenze people don’t like it I can always sell it to GWAR for their next album. My only stipulation is that Odorous has to mutilate Joey Greco on stage every night during the album tour.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

It’s like 30 degrees Celsius outside! And you know what all this hot weather means? Summer time and garage sale season kicking into gear!

Now I don’t hit the garage sales the way I used to. That’s because for one, I live in the city. Most of the garage sales here are less garage sale and more sweaty crackhead shaking beside a blanket containing a selection of unpawnable/ broken items and DVDs that used to belong to my neighbors.

The cordless drill? Oh yea it works just fine. But you see it can’t be crushed up and injected or smoked so I really have no use for it. Five dollars!!

And secondly, thanks to E-bay and Craigslist garage sales are going the way of Vallue Village. You just can’t find all the great things you used to.

Things like:

Those gold plastic weights.

The only thing these weights are good for now is weighing down the body of someone you killed or killing your lawn a month after you put them on your curb with a sign saying free. But there was a time when the suburban failed Adonis thought he could actually get money for them. They were often coupled with the chest expander.

Bonus if it was a really hairy guy selling it and there were hairs in the springs

And grip strengtheners.

Bonus if they were the gold executive model that wannabe 80s power suits kept on their desk for intimidation.

Archery sets.

When I was a kid every other garage sale had one of these up for grabs. I got a great one with a huge hunting bow, a quiver full of arrows and a homemade target on wheels for something like $15. I drew pictures of people I didn’t like and taped them to the front of the target. This was a big step up from throwing darts at the nipples of the topless Samantha Fox poster I won at the Appleby Mall fair.

f Samantha Fox could sing half as good as she could grow tits, she’d be top of the charts. – Some old copy of Viz Magazine.

Old Playboy & Penthouse magazines

Look at the article topics. Was anyone really that dedicated to being a scum bag?

It always amazed me how many of these fat truck drivers and bearded bikers were selling their old scud magazines at their garage sales. These men had no shame.

Ohhh, yep. Had a lot of good times masturbating to those… a LOT of gooood times. Hate to see ‘em go. 75 cents each or 3 for $2. 50 cents for the ones missing centerfolds.

Power Wheels

Look at the little girl acting just like her dumb bitch trophy wife mom. Kids, they’re like little people.

I used to see these at garage sales all the time. Rich parents would buy them for their kids not realizing that the rechargeable battery only had like 20 minutes of juice. I don’t know how many times I saw some frazzled dad dragging a Power Wheels back from the park with his shrieking kid under one arm. I was never allowed to get one at the garage sales because my dad had also seen those dads and because the dumb rich parents always wanted too much for it.

10 Cents?! I paid over $800 for that piece of shit!!!

Partially painted D&D miniatures.

Usually being sold by a guy like this.

Who had maybe grown up and found better things to do wit his weekend.

I remember purchasing a few to accentuate my growing army man collection. If the 101st thought the battle of the bulge was tough, wait till they find out Hitler has acquired two Orcs and a giant spider!

Pantyhose dolls.

I’m not really sure what the deal was with these things but there were lots of them at garage sales. Maybe the old women in my neighborhood couldn’t bear to part with their used pantyhose after having to ration them so much during World War II. (Did you know that women used to rub gravy on their legs to make it look like they were wearing nylons back then?) Who knows for sure? I bought a pantyhose doll at a garage sale and it was a little old man with a long grey beard and when you lifted the beard it had a dick and balls under it! I can’t believe those never caught on. Another pantyhose based item you got a lot of was jars full of little asses called Pickled Bums.

Toys that would be worth a lot now if someone didn’t fuck them all up.

You know what I’m talking about. You pull up to the garage sale in the back of your parents car and you see that AT- AT Walker on the table but when you run out of the car to buy it, it’s all messed up, missing all the parts and full of dirt.

Or the Smash-Up Derby cars that some kid’s anal-retentive mom pain stakingly glued all the pieces together so they don’t smash up any more.

The kid across the street from me’s mom actually did this

Don't forget the Cabbage Patch Doll Naked and covered in pen.

My Cabbage Patch doll was called Ralph Damien until I sent in the name change papers and had it legally changed to Thrash Damien. I always thought that Xavier Roberts signature on the doll’s ass would make a good tattoo for some 80s obsessed girl to get (or a girl that looked like a Cabbage Patch Kid).

And low and behold someone has gone and done it.

Good for you. Good luck explaining that to your grandchildren.

Good for you. Good luck explaining that to your grandchildren.

Well you see kids… there were these dolls… and 15 years later Granny got really drunk and…

you know what, never mind. Why would Granny be showing the kids her ass in the first place?

Yes those flimsy cardboard mass graves that contained the corpses of so many fallen Joes. Twisted and tortured by some sadistic child until their legs wobbled and their rubber torso bands snapped. The final eulogy engraved in magic marker on their tombstone:

Whole Box $1.

I morn them and curse their tormentors but not without my own feelings of guilt. For the last time I saw my Duke Howzer figure he was sailing over Appleby creek attached to 4 bottle rockets. His body will never be found.

Yo…..

Joe.

Yeah garage sales may not be what they used to be but what is these days? I still get excited on a Saturday morning when I see that sign.

And you can still manage to find something good from time to time.

So come on all you human vultures. Strap your fanny packs on and get hunting.

P.S. A special mention has to go to some of the people that make garage sales great. They are as follows.

The woman who says, Oh you just take it for free, it’s yours. when she sees a kid’s meager handful of change.

The man who says, If you want him, make me an offer. when his dog greets people at his garage sale. He will say this 76 times in one morning.

The kid who snatches toys out of peoples’ hands and screams That's not for sale! then runs into his room with it. He will do this 26 times in one morning.

The crazy couple that show up to an 8am garage sale at 6 am.

The even crazier couple that rope off their garage sale so that no one can visit it until their start time of 9am

Friday, May 21, 2010

Now I’m not talking about computer science. I think I’ve said all there is to say about that. No, I’m talking about the lab coat, test, tube, Bunsen burner, beaker kind of science.

Science has always been a mystery to the majority of mankind. Hundreds of years ago in the Middle Ages or dark ages (the time when everyone went from being kind of smart to really dumb again) there were wizards. Wizards weren’t really magic, they just new more about science then everybody else. Which wasn’t hard considering people back then thought bathing in urine was good for their skin.

(World’s first nerd.)

Now a day’s most people are introduced to the wonders of science as children. Some uncle or grandparent probably gave you a chemistry set when you were young.

Or if you were lucky you got the Mad Scientist Monster Lab.

Unless you were a girl, then you got one of these.

That’s why there are no girl scientists. Except for those ones you see on TV working in the Coors Light lab.

When you get a bit older you get to have science class.

Some people find out that they’re smart and like science class. But most of us just sit there laughing at our dead rat’s junk and repeatedly turning on the Bunsen burner gas because it smells like farts.

Those people that liked science have gone on to work in labs and hospitals and think tanks where they solve all the little problems that make our lives easier and more delicious.

Sounds perfect doesn’t it? Wrong! Scientists may get credit for their work but that’s about all they get. Let me give you an example. Right now Burger King probably has a team of scientists working around the clock finding ways to make the Whopper more delicious. But even if those scientists manage to bend the laws of physics and cram more bacon and cheese into that shitty burger then is humanly possible making it irresistible to fat fucks what do they get? A pat on the back or maybe a bonus if they’re lucky. Meanwhile the Burger King is partying on their scientific dime.

So it’s only a matter of time before scientists wake up, realize they’re undervalued and start exploiting stupid people just like everyone else. And it’s already begun. Time for another example.

There’s a company in Knoxville, TN called BioPet Vet Lab. They offer DNA dog breed analysis, DNA proof of dog parentage and DNA storage for companion animals. This sounds like worthy service for the discerning breeder or dog owner. But BioPet Vet Lab also offers something they call the PooPrints Program.

This is a program directed at those asnine, anal retentive people that live in gated communites or condos. The way it works is that everyone that owns a dog submits their dogs DNA to BioPet Labs for storage. Then if anyone’s dog shits in the community and the owner doesn’t pick it up, the poo can be sent to BioPet Labs for analysis and they will reveal who the guilty dog is.

This is stupid for so many reasons.

- You’d have to get everyone to agree to have their dog’s DNA taken and filed. But that’s ok. I’m sure people that live in gated communities have no issues with privacy.

- What’s to stop someone from handing in another dog’s shit and claiming it as their own dogs shit? Athletes and drug addicts do it with piss all the time. And to pass a fake dog log you wouldn’t even need a Wizzinator.

- It says you have to send the offending turd in to BioPet Labs for analysis. I don’t think sending shit through the mail is legal. But then how did Columbia House manage to send people all those Jimmy Eat World CDs ?

(Jimmy Eat Shit is more like it.)

- What if it’s not dog shit at all? What if it’s human? I for one would be out there shitting just to watch the PooPrints program go down in Who done it? accusatory flames. I might even dawn a trench coat and play Columbo, questioning and requestioning my neighbors on their bathroom habits.

(Here’s a hint: That’s not a cigar.)

- Wouldn’t it be easier and less expensive just to install some CCTV cameras? Not only would it catch unwanted dog shitters but it might also keep members of the community safe from burglars, rapists, murders and terrorists. Dangers that aren’t as prevalent as dog shit but dangerous none the less.

Oh well, it’s not like we didn’t see this coming. And if you do get nailed by your neighbor through doggy DNA shit detection our modern exploitative scientists have the perfect way for you to get revenge. Crab Revenge!